Chapter Text
“I didn’t make that for you, I made it for Himawari-chan!” screeched a high school boy, red in his slightly angular face and waving his arms spastically.
The boy was fairly pale, with round wire glasses perched on his narrow nose, which were in danger of sliding off. His jet-black hair shone in the afternoon sun, with a cowlick blowing softly in the wind. His outfit reminded one of a priest, though it was just his school uniform.
The high-strung boy was yelling at another boy, with the same school uniform and jet black hair, but was quite a bit taller than the former. He lacked glasses, and his face was narrower than the other boy. He had a confident- but not arrogant- air about him. This boy was eating a kuri manju, and treated the other boy with the sort of slight irksomeness you would a fruit fly.
“Didn’t you make more than one, Watanuki-san?” said the second boy after swallowing a bite of the kuri manju.
“Of course I did! I’m not going to just make one, after buying all those ingredients!”
Watanuki lifted up a large shopping bag, and held it open for the other boy to see. It was filled with delicious-looking kuri manju. The second boy’s eyes glanced into the bag.
“Surely, you don’t expect Himawari-chan to eat all those herself?”
“No, some are for Yuko-san. And I figured you’d be a pig and help yourself to a few, Doumeki-san.”
“We better keep up a good pace from now on to make it to school on time,” said Doumeki, ignoring the insult.
Watanuki let out a hmph and started to walk, taking long strides, but falling some paces behind Doumeki. The scenery, which neither boy took notice of, was typical for any walk to school in a borough on the outskirts of a large city. The grass was green, the sky was blue, the houses were in good condition: everything was calm.
Watanuki casually glanced over his shoulder, and his eyes widened in terror.
He screamed, startling an elderly man who walked out to get the paper. Watanuki broke out into a full-out sprint, not stopping until a block before the school. Doumeki had watched Watanuki pass him, with a deceivingly indifferent look in his eyes.
Bent forward, hands on his knees, Watanuki was still attempting to catch his breath when Doumeki reached him.
“I’m guessing you saw another spirit.”
“Uh…of course…or I wouldn’t…have…taken off…like that.”
Watanuki straightened himself, smoothed his uniform, and took another deep breath.
“It was just a bunch of black mist, and it felt…like there was nothing at all…like everything had gone from the world.” Watanuki shuddered.
Doumeki had been gazing at Watanuki intently, and waited a few seconds before offering an answer.
“I have never heard of that before…maybe Yuko-san might’ve. Don’t forget to mention it to her when you go to the shop today.”
“I won’t,” said Watanuki through his teeth.
“See you and your kuri manju at lunch then.”
Doumeki turned on his heel and began to stride down to his first period class.
“See- hey!”
Watanuki watched Doumeki turn right at the end of the hall, a smile twitching the corners of his indignantly agape mouth.
Watanuki walked into the opening of a wooden fence, and let himself in to a peculiar building.
The wood building looked to be about two floors, with a porch overlooking the left side of the street. The roof covering the second floor was salmon pink, with a crescent moon figurine placed at the top. Two windows on the second floor, facing out into the street, had an ornate arched design on them. A tower-like addition with windows on all sides was connected to the second floor, with a crescent moon figurine on top of it as well, but its roof was a light forest green. The awning covering the porch on the first floor was the same light forest green as the tower-like addition. Two tall cherry blossoms trees, now in full bloom, stood on either side of the building.
Watanuki had walked in through a mahogany door on the left of the house (or the right, if you were looking at it from the street). A thick arch of the green awning was above this door, with a golden circle hanging in the center.
Light grey smoke wafted through the air inside. The place was a bit cluttered, with a wide variety of items, to the point where it looked like a curio shop. There were masks, swords, statues, and items the everyday person would have never seen or heard of before.
“Yuko-san, I’m here!” yelled Watanuki as he set down his messenger bag.
“Good. I’m in the lounge,” said a female voice.
Nudging an elaborately-decorated trunk out his way, Watanuki made his way of the main room, and into a hallway. The hallway was empty, besides a beautifully designed rug hanging on the wall. Watanuki made a right turn at the end of the hallway, and pushing a scarlet curtain to the side, entered the lounge.
A young-looking woman was lounging on a cherry red couch in the center of the room. Her raven black hair draped past her pale shoulders. She was wearing a tangerine robe with a tribal design. Her slender feet were perched on a stack of straw boxes; the woman took a drag from her smoking pipe, lazily eyeing Watanuki. Her expression perked up when her eyes fell on the shopping bag. She sat up, trying to peer into the bag.
“Ooooh, what did you bring for me today, Watanuki-kun?”
“I made kuri manju last night. Doumeki-san and Himawari-chan both said it was amazing.”
Watanuki set the bag down cautiously in front of Yuko and quickly backed away, as if he expected her to rip the bag from his hands.
Laughing, Yuko leaned forward and lifted the bag with the index finger and thumb of her left hand. She placed the bag of kuri manju on top of her stomach when she had lain back down on the couch. Yuko rummaged through the bag until she had found what she believed was the best kuri manju. She took a large bite, and a few crumbs fell onto her lap.
“So, Watanuki-kun, I need you to clean out the storage room today.”
“Huh?” Watanuki titled his head slightly to the right, since Yuko’s words had become muddled as she chewed her kuri manju. Yuko took a large swallow.
“I need you to clean out the storage room today.”
“Again?! Didn’t I do that last week?”
“You know, Watanuki, you really shouldn’t waste your energy on all that yelling.”
Watanuki let out a sigh.
“Fine, fine.”
Watanuki lazily waved his arm to assure Yuko, and made his way out of the lounge, and began striding down the hallway.
However, Watanuki came to abrupt stop as soon as he came into the room, and then quickly wheeled himself around.
“Yuko, I need to talk to you about something.”
“Oh? Did you break something in the storage room?”
“No- I came across some spirit I never encountered before this morning, and it didn’t sound familiar to either of us-”
“Who is us?” A swirl of grey smoke floated out of the back room.
“Me and Doumeki-san,” Watanuki said, stepping back into the lounge and standing in front of Yuko.
“Anyway, we were walking to school, and I suddenly felt really odd, so I turned around, and there was this huge black mist.”
“Doumeki-san’s presence didn’t prevent this spirit from coming near you?”
“No-well- he was walking a bit ahead of me then.”
“Ah, yes, I see.” Yuko took another drag from her exotic-looking pipe, and slowly blew the smoke out from in between her red lips.
“So- do you have any idea what this thing was?”
Yuko didn’t respond, but took another leisurely drag from her pipe. Watanuki frowned and tapped his foot twice.
“Strange. I can’t think of a spirit-or anything else- like what you described…you said you felt odd?”
“Yeah…it was saddening. Not the spirit itself, but how he made me feel…the…the lack of…anything.”
Yuko tilted her head to the right. “Oh?”
Watanuki crossed his arms, fidgeting slightly.
“It felt like there was just this void…no emotion, no warmth…no anything, just nothingness.”
“And this made you sad?”
“Yeah, it made me feel…alone.”
Yuko nodded, bringing her pipe to her lips. She inhaled thoughtfully, and then after a pause, exhaled in the same fashion.
“Tell me if you see this spirit again, Watanuki-kun.”
“I will. I promise.”
A smile appeared on Yuko’s face.
“Now, if you don’t want to clean the storage room, you can make some more kuri manju. I’m all out of it.”
Her eyes drifted down towards the shopping bag Watanuki brought with him, now crumpled at the foot of the couch. The open palms alongside Watanuki turned into tightly-clenched fists.
“You—“
Yuko’s laughter seemed to drift through her shop, just like the sweet smoke from her pipe.